Reconnoitering

The ink is dry -- we're officially (and irrevocably, if we choose) "in contract." The home inspector arrives Friday afternoon. One hurdle down, one to go.

After working hours today we met our realtor at a cheap Tex-Mex joint for dinner, chat and a few more signatures. On our way back to alcohell we detoured past the new place -- four times -- and cruised the surrounds to sample village life on a mild spring evening.

Some of the locals were ambling, with and without dogs, along nearby sidewalks. Others bicycled or jogged. The adjacent city park, with its creek, pond, covered bridge and ball fields, was seeing its first real use of the season.

Even though the snow melted long ago, we know a great sledding hill when we see one.

What we witnessed was as distant as can be from sterile suburban life in a planned development. It was wonderful.

This will be our village. These will be our neighbors. Quiet as the evening was I felt vibrancy, a living community we'll soon call home.

If I can't have my cabin in the mountains -- and I can't, by the way -- this is where I want to be. This is it.